


like you like that

by ohjustpeachy



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Breakfast, Fluff, Getting Together, Love at First Sight, M/M, Steve Rogers Feels, Tony Stark Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:21:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25313764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohjustpeachy/pseuds/ohjustpeachy
Summary: Steve just blinked at him. That’s the moment most burned into Tony’s mind. The way Steve just looked at him, so confident and sure when Tony was completely out of his element.They meet at a party and it's love at first sight. Tony never claimed it made sense.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 13
Kudos: 195





	like you like that

Tony wakes up with his face smushed into something soft, something distinctly...not a pillow. He yawns and tucks his face into what he quickly learns is the shoulder of the guy—Steve—that he’d brought home from the party last night. This in itself isn’t unusual, not really. Tony doesn’t do it nearly as often these days, but waking up to find someone in his bed with him isn’t a new thing. **  
**

What _is_ new is how comfortable Tony is. How he feels like he’s gotten his first really good, restful night of sleep in far too long. What’s even more surprising is the way Steve wakes up, smiles at him, and tugs him closer, peppering kisses along the sensitive skin at the nape of Tony’s neck, muttering something about buying him breakfast. _Breakfast_. His one night stands don’t talk about breakfast. They slink out of his room and go back out into the world, to shower, run errands, post on Twitter about their night in bed with Tony Stark. They don’t ask if he likes pancakes or french toast best.

It’s not just surprising. This is _weird_. 

Right?

_French toast,_ Tony finds himself answering. _My mom used to make it with strawberries on top and I guess I still have a taste for it._

_Sounds perfect. I know just the place._ With that, Steve kisses him again, just once, sweet as strawberries they haven’t yet had, and pulls him up and into the shower. 

Weirder still, Tony lets himself be led. 

*

_Try this._ Steve’s holding out his fork, chocolate chip pancakes, heavy on the chocolate, slipping off it as he holds it out to Tony. What choice does he have but to try it, right off the fork Steve offers? And why not? Tony’s breaking just about every rule he’s ever had about this kind of thing, and can’t find it in himself to care. 

After last night, maybe Tony should be done with the surprise. Being with Steve is so _easy,_ it’s like he’s known him for years and years. Maybe this is what people mean, Tony thinks with a a jolt. Maybe sometimes you just _know_.

Steve had walked them to a little corner cafe, a place Tony’s passed by hundreds of times without taking a second look. He can’t believe it’s been here all along, with french toast almost as good as his mom used to make, and he’d never been inside. 

_Mmph_ … Tony all but moans as Steve pulls the fork away, earning him a wide smile. 

_Good, right?_

Tony nods. It’s all almost _too_ good. He has to know what’s going on. 

_What are we doing here, Steve?_ Tony asks, not unkindly. 

Another smile. _Having breakfast. And then I’m going to ask you for your number, because_ somehow _last night I didn’t have the wherewithal to do so, and I don’t think I’ll forgive myself if I don’t. Then I’m going to walk you back home, and if it’s okay, probably give you a call later tonight._

Tony sits in stunned silence, his jaw working until Steve’s eyebrows lift just a little. _Is that okay?_

And Tony finds himself nodding vigorously. _No, yeah. I mean, yes, It’s okay. Wanna try this?_ Tony holds out the fork before he can second guess himself again. Steve’s been different from the very first. Why question it now?

When they’re done, Steve pays, and scrawls his phone number on a napkin, shrugging when Tony reminds him that he could have just put it in Tony’s phone. _Yeah, well, now you have it just in case._

Tony tucks the napkin in his pocket. Just in case. 

He finds he’s more pleased than surprised when Steve reaches down and twines their fingers together while they walk back to Tony’s apartment. Steve holds his hand like it’s nothing, like they’ve done this every morning, always. 

_Inexplicable_.

*

**_Twelve Hours Earlier_ **

The night was a blur. 

Tony didn’t understand it then and he can’t claim to understand it now. There’s no scientific explanation for the way he felt. All he knows, even in the sober light of a brand new day, is that he looked up in the middle of a party for a friend of a friend, seeking out Rhodey amid a sea of bodies, and locked eyes with a blond stranger instead. _A blur, a sea of strangers, locking eyes across a crowded room…_ Tony knows how it sounds, but it gets worse. Because he locked eyes with the blond across the room and it was like being struck by lighting. He felt his breath catch in his throat, felt that moment all the way down to his toes. 

Tony can’t go so far as to say he felt the earth shift beneath his feet, but _his_ world was definitely shaken. 

It’s every cliche in the book, and he knows it.

Love at first sight was something that happened in fairytales and, very occasionally, to extremely lucky people who were certainly not him. But it was inexplicable, the way Tony’s feet seemed to be acting of their own volition, steering him across the room and over to the guy who would smile, shy and slow, and tell him his name was Steve. Steve Rogers. 

Tony wouldn’t get to appreciate the true blue of his eyes until the next morning, full of sleep and sunshine and looking at him like they’d woken up like this countless times before. As it was, his heart was hammering in his chest and there was a heat running through him, low and simmering. 

_Inexplicable_.

“I’m Tony. Stark.” Tony stared at Steve for a long minute then. Maybe he just knew him from somewhere else. He was sure there was a rational explanation. 

“Nice to meet you, Tony,” Steve said, still smiling at him like he knew something Tony didn’t. Steve held onto his hand for just a moment longer than necessary before letting go.

“Do I know you from somewhere? You didn’t work for me once, did you?” Tony tried. 

Steve laughed, low and rumbling; Tony felt it more than heard it. “No,” he said. “I really don’t think so.”

_Huh_.

“Yeah. Yeah, I would remember that. Did you go to MIT?” There had to be a something. Maybe Tony saw him on the subway or a bus or something. Maybe his face was _on_ a bus. 

“Definitely not.”

“Is your face on a bus?” Tony squinted. 

“Do you always interrogate strangers at parties? You can just ask what I do or something, you know.” A more whole-hearted smile this time. _God_. 

“Habit? No, just you.” 

Steve just blinked at him. That’s the moment most burned into Tony’s mind. The way Steve just looked at him, so confident and sure when Tony was completely out of his element. 

“Okay, what do you do, since we’ve established you don’t work for me.” 

Steve laughed again. “This and that. A lot of freelance graphic design. Sometimes I deliver pizzas or walk dogs if client work is light and rent’s coming up.”

Of course he walked dogs. Of course he was beautiful and nice and _walked dogs_.

Steve put a gentle hand on the small of Tony’s back then, asked if he could get him a drink, and it was like Tony’s skin was on fire, the simmering spark from before gaining oxygen and growing.

“Sure, yeah, that’d be good. You’re sure I don’t know you from somewhere?” 

Tony wasn’t ready to give up on there being a reason for this, how he felt like he was both on fire and drowning and _enjoying it._

Steve shook his head, let their fingers brush as he led them to the kitchen. “Well, not yet, anyway. I’m hoping that changes, though.”

It was around then that Tony decided that rational thought wasn’t always the most important thing. 

And the rest, as these stories go, is history. 


End file.
